The Pit
by let.the.cards.fall
Summary: Riley thought she was safe in the dark alleys of futuristic New York City, until she was caught by the police and forced into The Pit-a deep hole in the ocean where all of the countries put their most dangerous criminals. And only one comes out alive. Can Riley survive the horrors of The Pit? Find out in this thrilling, romantic, and adventurous novel.
1. Chapter 1

**Sup guys! This was my own idea so I had to choose a random category! Hope you enjoy! Comment on what you think!**

 **-LTCF**

New York City, 2146

A gun went off. I quickly turned around and pulled the strap of the gun over my shoulder, ready to fire. I crouched behind a trash can, peering over the top. I was in an alley right next to Times Square. There was no risk of someone discovering me, no one would bother anyway. Suddenly, two circles of light appeared against the back wall of the alley. They had brought flashlights. I crouched lower, hoping that my black clothing would disguise me. But I had a feeling it wouldn't.

Eight police officers, or Officials, in shining white official protective clothing, turned down the alley I was in. Sometimes the government had them do nightly patrols. Sometimes people were caught.

My hands shook as I raised the gun. I knew there were too many of them for me to kill them all without being discovered, but I had to try to get away. I aimed there gun at the official to the far right. I took a shaky breath as I loaded the gun. I pulled the trigger, and ran.

The Official fell to the ground. The other Officials gathered around him, all except for three. They trailed me as I winded through the narrow passages of New York City. I looked over my shoulder. They were still trailing me. I swiftly loaded my gun and fired over my shoulder. I heard a groan and a loud thud as one of the officials fell to the ground. I cut hard to the right down another alleyway, but I ran into something. It knocked me backwards so hard that I had trouble standing up. Not long after, the two officials came up behind me. _What had I run into?_ I thought. I looked up to see a standardized trash can towering above me.

"Hands behind your back!" snapped the Official.

I reluctantly do so. The man's voice was low and muffled by his protective helmet. His hands were strong. It hurt as he fastened the handcuffs two notches too tight. I winced.

The Officials led me downtown to the jail. They hadn't seen any of my major crimes, like shooting a civilian that somehow gained knowledge of my identity and where I hid, or robbing the city bank so I could eat. They had only seen me shoot an official, and that was enough to get me arrested.

The Officials threw me into an empty cell without another word. They don't bother saying, "You have the right to remain silent." Most people just do.

I try to get my hands in front of me, but that just resulted in more searing hot pain tearing up my arm. I saw a crack in the wall big enough to fit into the keyhole of the handcuffs. With some difficulty and pain, I managed to get the keyhole into the crack and turn it. The cuffs opened with a snap. I sighed with relief. I reluctantly slid them back onto my wrists, but fastened them loose, just in case.

I gathered my surroundings. I was in a small cell. I gripped the iron bars. Stone cold. I tried to shake them, but they wouldn't budge. There was a small cot in the other side of the room. It smelled foul. _Not going to sleep on that,_ I thought. There weren't any windows, so there was no fresh air. I laid down on the ground. I let my eyes close as I drifted off into a light sleep.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" yelled the Official. I groggily rubbed my eyes. Still in a cell. Still locked up. So it wasn't a dream.

The Official walked by my cell. He had a bushy brown mustache, and dark gray eyes.

"Get up!" he yelled.

"What a wake up call," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."  
"Don't tell me it was nothing! What did you say?"

The Official looked heated, his cheeks flushed red. I knew I had pushed it, maybe a little too far.

"Come with me," he snarled.

 _What have I gotten myself into?_ I thought as the officer dragged me past the other inmates. They stared at me as I passed. I could imagine them thinking, _this on her first day?_

The Official dragged me into a room. The room was dark, lit by only one dim light. It gave off an eerie feeling. On the table was a loop where the handcuffs would hook through and lock so I couldn't escape. I shuddered. Another official sat at the other end of the table, though he wore Commander blue. A shadow was cast over half of his face. He had very high status.

"What is your name?" he asked me.

"Riley," I muttered.

"What's yours?" I blurted.

"Ryan."

The other Official seemed annoyed that he hadn't scolded me yet. I was glad he was annoyed.

"She is here for interrogation," said the Official coldly.

Ryan had his eyes locked on mine. He pulled away.

"Right," he said, almost scolding himself for looking at me, "Right."

Ryan waved the officer away. That left the two of us.

Ryan grabbed a syringe full of blue liquid. Truth serum.

He stuck the needle into my neck. I winced. I felt the effect of the serum immediately. My vision fogged up. I felt dizzy and tired.

"What other crimes have you committed, other than shooting an _Official?"_

He put an extra bit of power on the word Official.

"I shot a civilian, robbed a bank, live illegally," I blurted.

His bright blue eyes hardened.

"Let's check your files. Maybe you have parents."

My files. My files held all of the information on my mother and father. I already had 6 black marks. Now they have to add another three.

"Let's see…How many black marks…" said Ryan, scanning the papers.

"I know I have 6," I said, fighting the restraints that bound my hands. I felt trapped.

"Dangerous criminals have 6 or more. You, my dear, have stepped way over the line. The Pit will serve you well."

My stomach dropped. The Pit was a deep, dark pit in the middle of the ocean. When the continents drifted together to form one big continent, a gap in the ocean on the other side of the world was created, and because of erosion, it became a pit. where all of the countries put their most dangerous criminals in an annual "Pit Disposal" every year to fight to the death until only one remained. The single survivor would receive food, medicine, and weapons for the next Pit Disposal. The victor would fight again until he or she lost and another took their place. If you go into the Pit, you never come out.

Tears began to form in my eyes. I tried to blink them away.

"Out!" he yelled.

My hands still trembling and sweating, I trudged out the door. The Official looked at me suspiciously as I walked myself back to my cell. We were deep underground so no one could escape. _What am I going to do?_ I thought as I hugged my knees on the floor of my cell.

"You alright?" said a voice behind me.

I turned my head to find another inmate in the cell with me.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

"Hunter Derext."  
"What do you want?"  
"Nothing now that I'm going into the Pit for the third time."

I looked at him bewildered. No one survived three Pit Disposals.

"When are we going in?" I asked.

"5 days."

I shook my head. At least I had a little time.

"What are you in for?" he asked.

"Shooting an Official, robbing a bank, shooting a civilian, living illegally. You?"

"Shooting an Official, robbing a bank, shooting _multiple_ civilians, living illegally."

I laughed, although a friend can turn into an enemy very quickly in the Pit.

"Why aren't you afraid of me? Most people are," Hunter asked.

I couldn't answer that question myself. I felt an odd sort of ease around him. It felt distant, but almost familiar. I shrugged.

"I don't know."  
Hunter cleared his throat nervously and stroked his hand through his hair.

"I can help you win, you know. I've won before," he said.

"Why would you want to help me?"

"Because I don't want to be alone anymore."  
 _A memory hit me like a slap. I was laying in my hammock in the alley of 34th and Broad St. I was alone, trying to fall asleep, but it proved difficult. Suddenly, I heard footsteps. I swung out of the hammock, finger on the trigger of my gun, ready to shoot. The boy was probably 16, about my age. He put his hands up in surrender._

 _"Who are you and what do you want?" I snapped at him._

 _"Hunter."  
"Why are you here?"  
"Because I don't want to be alone anymore."_

 _We stayed together for months, protecting each other, caring for each other. Then one day, Hunter was captured by the Officials._

 _It was only two years ago. We were in an alley that exposed us. But we were too tired to move any further._

 _"Is it really safe?" 18 year old Hunter said._

 _We were only 18 then. I had almost forgot we were so young._

 _"It's only one night. We'll be fine," I had told him._

 _That day we had gone to the only black market in the city, The Privateer. The Privateer was 18 miles from the alley we "lived" in. But to tell you the truth, it wasn't really living._

 _A few hours after we settled down, I felt uneasy. Maybe Hunter was right. Hunter was always right. I rolled over to see his body steadily rising and falling. And then I heard the footsteps._

 _"Hunter," I whispered._

 _But he didn't move._

 _"Come on, Hunter."_

 _He still didn't move._

 _I knew what I had to do. I had to save myself._

 _Tears streaming down my face, I said, "Goodbye Hunter."_

 _And then I turned and ran_.

I blinked and was brought back to reality.

"Hunter!" I said.

"Riley," he said, hugging me tightly.

"Damnit, I thought I lost you!"

"I thought I did too-whoah. Bad language."

I had almost forgotten that Hunter didn't cuss. For me cussing was as easy and natural as breathing.

"Listen," I said, pulling him closer, "We have to survive next week. We can do it. We can do it together."

"I know. I have extra supplies from the last disposal. They are in the far right corner of the Pit."  
I took his hand and gripped it tightly in mine. His eyes met mine, full of curiosity. And then he leaned in and kissed me.

I didn't know what to expect. I knew it would happen between us at some point. I didn't know how it would feel, or what it would be like. I hesitated for a moment, but then embraced it. He was apart of my broken family again.


	2. Chapter 2

NYC Prison, 2146

"Hello? Anybody in there?" yelled Hunter. I slowly opened my eyes. His voice had slowly become more familiar over the past four days. That reminded me, only one day until the Pit.

He kicked me in the side. I groaned.

"This is the last day," Hunter said, "We have to train."

"Come on! Just give me 5 more minutes," I said teasing him, "I'll be dead in 48 hours!"

"No you won't. I won't let that happen. Let's go."

His voice was stone cold, almost convincing. I let the Officials drag me out of the cell.

We are brought to the Mess Hall. There was a line to get in. Of course there was. Every day before you get into the mess hall, they inject you with a serum. It inserts your schedule for the day into your brain. At any time of the day, the people working the computers can show the schedule to you through your eyes. They usually show it at every hour.

Hunter and I slowly shuffled forward. I could hear the beeps of the machine as it inserted the serum. I had always had a fear of needles, or anything that punctured my skin. I had barely gotten by the last four days.

Hunter went before me. He had gotten so used to the needles, he didn't even flinch when they injected it into the side of his neck. He stepped into the Mess.

I was next. Hesitantly, I stepped forward. The Official in white held a syringe of clear liquid. He put the needle in the side of my neck, just as he had with Hunter. I hunched my shoulders. Then the schedule in right orange letters flashed in front of my eyes. It read:

Schedule

530- 545 AM Breakfast: Mess Hall

600-800 AM Training: Training Room

830-1130 AM Strategy: Cell

1200-1245 PM Lunch: Mess Hall

1300-1430 PM Outside

1500-1700 PM Torture

1800-1900 PM Dinner

1930 PM Back to Cell

Torture? I didn't want to think about torture. I thought about asking Hunter, but then I realized I didn't have to. The madness in his eyes was enough. I shuddered.

After breakfast, we were forced into a room with all of the other inmates. One of them bumped into me and knocked me over.

"She wont last 5 minutes!" laughed the prisoner that knocked me over. I didn't want him to, but I had a feeling that Hunter would get in his face. I hoped he didn't.

"Oh really? You'll be dead before she will be. And she's not gonna die," Hunter yelled.

The prisoner sneered.

"Standing up for her, eh? Smart move, lover boy," the prisoner said through gritted teeth.

Hunter lunged at him. He dodged out of the way at the last second. Hunter fell to the floor, and the prisoner laughed.

"My name is Edward," said the prisoner, kicking Hunter in the stomach, "I'm sure you'll never forget that."

The Officials finally got between Hunter and Edward's foot.  
"Stop!" they yelled.

Edward stopped. He turned and said, "This isn't over, lover boy."

We were shoved into a dark room lit only by one dim lightbulb. Officials lined the walls, guns at the ready. A loud clicking sound pierced my ears as all of the guns were loaded at the same exact time.

"Come on," Hunter whispered as he dragged me further into the room.

"Prisoners! This is your last day. We have given you one more opportunity to train. No fighting with other prisoners or you will be shot on the spot!"

We all were placed at the far wall of the room.

"Go!" yelled the Officials from all over the room.

All of the other prisoners broke into a run to get their hands on the weapons. Why give these dangerous criminals weapons? I started to think. _These people are stupid if they think-_

I stopped in my tracks. One of the prisoners was on the ground, their body separated from their head. A pool of blood surrounded him. Edward stood over him, bloody knife in hand, ready to slash another prisoner.

"Freeze in the name of the law!" boomed the Officials in perfect unison.

Edward froze. Everyone else used this opportunity to get their hands on a weapon. But I couldn't move.

Officials began marching towards the prisoner, guns raised. Hunter was still next to me.

"This happens every year. One of the prisoners gets crazy," he whispered to me. I shuddered.

My eyes found the boy on the ground. He was young, probably 16, with short curly blonde hair. I shuddered as I thought, _That could have been me._

The Commander loaded his gun, and pulled the trigger. Edward fell to the floor. Everyone was silent.

"Go! Get on with it then!" yelled the Commander.

Hunter dragged me over to the weapons. At first I was hesitant to touch them. It was a childish fear of mine. The only gun I could ever touch was the one my mother used to kill herself. And now that gun was in the hands of the Officials. _Silly,_ I thought, rolling my eyes. My hands trembled as I grabbed a gun. I nervously laughed. Hunter could see my nervousness.

"She isn't gone, you know. She's in here," said Hunter pointing to my heart.

I turned away from him, biting my lip hard to keep from crying. Hunter had said those words to me every time I mourned my mother. _No_ -I thought- _H_ e _said those words until I let him be captured._ I shook with anger, hatred, and sadness, angry with myself for letting him go, sad for my mother, hatred toward my father. Where was my father now? Probably smoking in Vegas getting drunk with drug dealers. _God I hate him,_ I thought. He was the kind of person who no one wanted to be around. He manipulated you, twisted your mind, and eventually he destroyed-

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and aimed my gun at him.

"Woah! It's just me!" said Hunter, putting his hands up.

I sighed.

"Not now please."  
"Why not? Come on!"

"God, you don't understand that it hurts, do you? It's like I'm speaking a foreign language!"

He tries to embrace me, but I pull away.

"I don't need you to survive. I hope you can see me live a happy life from heaven!" I said, pointing to the sky. I stepped on his foot and strode away.

"Ow! Come on Riley!" I heard a voice say behind me. But I kept walking.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Strategy was awful. I had to be in the cell with Hunter after out big fight for two hours. I went to lunch and sat as far away from him as possible. When i went outside, I brought the map with me. I located where Hunters goodies were and how to get to them without him knowing. Instead of strategizing with him, I strategized against him. I had to be one step ahead of him. Finally torture came. I was pushed into a room with a Commander. He had his mask off, and I recognized him as Ryan from his facial features. Dark smooth skin, brown eyes. He never smiled.

I hesitantly walked into the room.

"Torture isn't as bad as you may think," he said, not looking at me.

"Is that how you advertise it then? Torture isn't bad, so come on down to the prison and get a needle stuck in your neck!" I said, trying to put on my best advertiser voice while staying angry.

"No, we don't do any advertising for the prison," he said, not knowing that I was being sarcastic.

Ryan had been all over the prison, monitoring the prisoners, making sure that the Officials did their job. But he was always near me. For some reason, and this was out of the blue, I thought he liked me, just a little. I was disgusted.

I walked over to the chair without him telling me to. He fastened me to the chair. I felt restrained, trapped. And that was never good.

"It'll be over before you know it. Trust me," said Ryan as he pulled out the syringe full of orange liquid.

"I will never trust you."  
Then I went under.

I appeared in a room. My vision was hazy, so I couldn't see much, except for the little holes in the wall. I tried to take in my surroundings. They must have put me in some sort of simulation. But at the time I didn't know that. All I could think about was the water coming from the holes in the wall.

There were no windows in the room. I tried to narrow down my options. One option was to try to swim through the hole in the wall. _No,_ I thought, _I would drown_. Another option, to wait the water out. See if it will completely fill the room. But that was highly unlikely. If they wanted to kill me, they would do it now.

Water was rising to my knees, and I still had no plan.

 _Trust me._ Ryan's words boomed in my head. How could I have trusted him? He was following me around, counting my weaknesses. Now he finally had what he wanted.

The water had reached my waist, rising faster and faster. I heard the roar of the water, pounding on the walls loud and fast like someone knocking at the door. The water tugged at my shirt. I tried to scream but no sound came out. The water was at my neck now, reaching my chin.

"What do I do?" I thought aloud.

Suddenly, a voice boomed, "Run! Run, Riley, run!"

I couldn't figure out where it was coming from, but I trusted it more than anything. I waded over towards the wall, as fast as I could go. I hit the wall with more force than I thought I would. Then everything went black.

I awoke on the floor of the torture room, hands unshackled from the chair. Hunter was in front of me, protecting me from Ryan.

"Why did you do that to her?" he yelled.

Ryan didn't answer, but his fist did with a hard blow to the stomach. Hunter stumbled backwards, kicking me in the side. Hunter fell to the floor and hit his head. He didn't move. I stood up, clutching my side. I lunged at Ryan, but he grabbed my wrists before I could punch him. But he wasn't finished yet. He thrust me backwards onto the floor. My head hit the ground first. My vision went black at the edges. I tried to stand up, but my legs didn't move. Ryan took this as an opportunity. He pinned me by my wrists to the ground. I struggled against him, but he was too strong.

"Get off me!" I yelled.

He pulled out his gun and aimed it at Hunter.

"One more move and I'll shoot," he said coldly.

I reluctantly put my hands up. I had no plan this time, no way to escape. I looked over at Hunter. He was slowly getting up, rubbing his head. Ryan elbowed him in the stomach and Hunter fell to the floor again.

"Stop!" I yelled.

Ryan picked up his radio and spoke into it, "This is Commander Ryan in Sector 13 of NYC Prison. Two escaping prisoners. Request for backup."

"No!" Hunter yelled.

There were black dots spotting my vision from the hard impact. I finally collapsed and blacked out.

I awoke in a bed. I felt restraints over my stomach, binding me to the mattress. My side ached and my head throbbed. _Where am I?_ I thought. A figure walked up beside me.

"Don't worry. Ryan was arrested," he said. His voice sounded familiar, a distant memory.

"Where am I?" As I spoke, my voice cracked. I was weak.

"You're in the hospital. Sector 158 of NYC Prison."

My vision was blurred, but I could make out his face. He looked like someone I know, or used to know.

"Who are you?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Who am I? Come on Riley, you know who I am."

 _How does he know my name?_ I thought. I shook my head. The man looked away from me.

"She must have hit her head hard. She doesn't remember my name."

"Well, what is your name?"  
"David."  
David. The only person that helped my mother and I when my father was around.

"God, David!" I exclaimed.

He laughed. He was the father I never had. I could see more clearly now. His features were recognizable. He had brown hair and brown eyes. His hair was cleanly buzzed so close to his skull I didn't know how he did it.

He pulled me in for a hug.

"Thank god you're here," I told him. He hesitated, then pulled back and looked at his shoes.

"You know…in all honesty…um…the thing is…I can't get you out."

I stared at him for a long second.

"What?" I asked shakily.

"I tried. I tried to tell them what you've been through, but they wouldn't listen. You are going in a few hours."

I tried to find out what time it was. I looked outside. It was night time. I must be going in in the morning.

"I…I don't understand. You said you would help me. Help _us_ ," I said, thinking of my mother. My cheeks flushed. I was angry now. "You said you would help us and now she's _dead_."

The word dead rolled off my tongue so easily now.

"I-I-I I know and I-I-I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Sorry for my loss? That's it? I expected something like, 'I'm sorry I couldn't be there to save your mother who was your last hope!'" I spat at him. I struggled against the restraints now. He looked nervous.

"I'm sorry Riley. I really am. But I can't help you anymore."

Then the last part of my broken family left me.

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	3. Chapter 3

The Streets of NYC, 2134

 _My mother stood there. Though this was only a dream, she stood there, arms open, facing me. Suddenly a man in all black jumped in front of me and raised a gun, the gun that would help protect me for the rest of my life. Back then I was only eight, but I taught myself how to fire one in mere desperation. He had his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot._

 _"Hand it over," said the man through gritted teeth._

 _My father. He had sleek brown hair and hazel eyes. He had the nerve to stand there, ready to shoot her. My father had been using my mother in ways that I couldn't understand. Now my mother finally had something to fight back with: a stack of legal rights papers. And she was prepared to hand them over at the cost of her life._

 _I looked at me, my eight year old self. I was trembling in fear, standing in front of mother, trying to protect her any way I could. I had a small revolver in my hand, but my father couldn't see it._

 _"Step aside Riley," said my father sternly. He aimed the gun at eight year old Riley, forcing her to move. Riley reluctantly stepped aside._

 _"Now for the papers," said my father, rubbing his hands together._

 _"No! Don't give them to him!" Riley screamed. Her hand found the trigger of the revolver._

 _"Give it to me," said my mother to Riley, "Give me the gun."  
Riley had no idea what was going on. Hands trembling, she took out the gun and handing it to her mother, not knowing that she would regret that decision for the rest of her life._

 _"Goodbye Riley," said my mother, tears streaming down her face._

 _Mother aimed the gun at her head and pulled the trigger._

 _"No!" Riley screamed as my mother fell in a lifeless heap. She began to cry. Riley looked up at her father, surprised to see that he was smiling._

 _"Now what shall we do with you, little brat? An orphanage? Or shall I leave you on the streets to fare for yourself?" spat my father. He began to laugh devilishly. And then I woke up._

I jerked up. Beads of sweat covered my face. I gripped the iron bars, hands still trembling.

"Hunter?" I asked into the darkness of the cell.

"Give me 5 more minutes!"  
I didn't laugh. What I had seen in my dream had unfortunately been reality.

"Okay what is it?" asked Hunter, crawling out of the dark.

"I was right there. I could have saved her!" I croaked, letting out a sob.

"It wasn't your fault," Hunter said. He knew what I was talking about. I had this dream almost every night.

"Come on Riley. It's time to go."

We boarded the government protected (just in case anyone tried anything stupid) hovercraft. The guards shoved us mercilessly into the hovercraft.

"Time to go," said one of the officials. His voice was deep, almost robotic. He handed me a jacket. It was black with red lining. Sewn onto the back of it was the American flag.

"They identify what country you come from," Hunter said. I nodded, though honestly I didn't want to represent the country that was sending me into a hole in the ocean to die.

I took one last glimpse at the grey, polluted sky that coated the NYC area. Hunter dragged me to a corner of the hovercraft. I was surprised that there was no straps to protect us. _Well,_ I thought, _if they cared about our safety, they wouldn't be sending us to the Pit._

We flew for hours. None of the prisoners spoke. Not even Hunter. I lay in his arms. He rubbed my back as an act of kindness, but it didn't make me feel any better.

I looked at my watch. The flight from NYC to the Pit was supposed to be 17 hours. It had only been 8. Hunter's hand ran down my arm. His fingers laced between mine. I felt a pang of guilt as I remembered yesterday's fight in the training room. His other arm started to slowly crawl down my neck and under my shirt. Although it was uncomfortable, I let him do it. I finally couldn't take it anymore. I turned around and kissed him.

I didn't care who saw us. All of the prisoners began to speak in hushed whispers. At first Hunter hesitated, but he embraced it. We kissed for two seconds too long. I laughed and Hunter did too.

"So, you aren't going to let me die anymore?" Hunter asked, a big grin plastered across his face.

"No, I'm not going to let you die. I never was," I said. The words were true. I felt like I was in a huge debt to him. I had let him get captured. I had never forgiven myself for that. But before I could apologize, he kissed me again. I could feel the beat of his heart, the warmth of his lips against mine. I put every second of the kiss into my memory.

"So what was that yesterday in the torture room?" I asked him quietly.

"They were trying to get information out of me about you, and I couldn't tell them. They told me they would torture you until I told them. I couldn't bear it. I know what it's like. I fought off the other guards and got you out." He shook his head. "it was hard for me to watch you. Gripping your neck, shutting your mouth so the water wouldn't get in. Or the fake water. I'm sorry I couldn't help faster."

I had no idea it was so hard for him. He'd been at this prison for two years. He had seen people come and people go. I shuddered.

We finally arrived at the U.S. drop off point. I heard my breath as I looked over the side of the plane. We were descending toward the ground now. The Pit floor was misty, so I couldn't see where the actual ground was.

20, 15, 10, 5 feet away from the mist. My heart was pounding so hard and loud I couldn't hear what Hunter was saying. Suddenly, I was shoved off the plane. I descended and hit the ground with a thud. Hunter immediately broke out into a run. I stood up slowly and began to run with him. All of the sudden, I felt a sharp pain up my back. I screamed and fell to the floor. I couldn't get up. The person, whoever they were, put their foot on the gash on my back and pressed down hard. I screamed again, and this time Hunter came rushing toward me, but stopped when he saw who my attacker was. I still had no idea. He stepped back, trembling.

He swallowed hard and said, "Leave. Her. Alone."

The attacker didn't move. A pool of blood was forming around me. I screamed as the attacker pressed harder onto my back.

"Hunter make him stop!" I screamed.

He nodded at me and lunged at the attacker. The attacker dodged, but that meant that he got off of me. I scrambled to my feet, trying to ignore the searing pain that tore up my back. I winced and looked over at Hunter. He and the attacker were having a fist fight. Hunter had a deep gash across his face. I tried to move closer to them, but every step brought a new wave of pain. The attacker wore a jacket with the German flag on it. Hunter punched the attacker in the jaw. The attacker flew backwards, hitting the ground with a thud. Hunter ran over and kicked him in the stomach, and then the face. He was dead. Hunter grabbed the sword the attacker had used to slash my back. I stood there, breathing heavy because of the loss of blood.

Hunter looked from the attacker, and then to me, and said, "Let's get to the supplies."

We trekked to the far right corner of the Pit. It was hard. I leaned on Hunter most of the way. It took us all day, but we finally got there. Hunter knelt down next to a box and popped the lid. He fumbled through the medical supplies until he found the needle, thread, and bandages. I looked at him horrified.

"Relax. I'm going to put you to sleep."

I sighed in relief. He took out a vile of clear liquid.

"Drink up," he said, handing it to me.

I took it in both hands and gulped it down. It tasted foul, but I expected that. Suddenly, my vision went dark. I fell back. And then, I couldn't feel anything.

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